A Mark of Betrayal

Hey readers! Thanks for reading! This next chapter is to wish all those people studying for exams, good luck. Thanks to acoustics1220 for reviewing, I hope you and everyone else enjoys this chapter...

Bad News

Draco lay in his four-poster bed, in a deep reverie of Friday after Potions. He had finally worked up the nerve to tell him and had approached him after the lesson. There was a problem however, Harry's bag had split and Ron and Hermione had stayed behind to help him gather up all his things, he couldn't say anything in front of them.

"Urm..." Professor, could I talk to you in private?" he said slowly; he was starting to feel sick. Professor Snape looked at him questioningly, surveying his pale face and narrowed eyes.

"Wouldn't it be easier to tell me now Malfoy?" he asked lightly. Draco shook his head slowly. He could feel the trio listening to them and was convinced they were curious to know more; Snape gave Draco a final curious look.

"Very well Malfoy, come and see me on Sunday morning at 10, this does indeed seem like something which is worth the wait. In is unfortunate but I have a lot of things to do this week," Snape said quietly.

Draco nodded weakly; he could feel their eyes boring into the back of his head. He wondered whether Potter knew that You-Know-Who had now chosen an heir; heck he wondered if Potter even knew You-Know-Who was planning something. If anyone could save the wizarding world it was Potter, even though Draco had once upon a time loathed admitting it.

Draco rolled over roughly in bed, to get into a comfier position to think some more. He rolled rather too roughly however; he fell through his four-poster bed curtains and landed painfully on his back. He groaned loudly not because of his fall but because of the sight, he saw looking up at the dorm ceiling. There was a large green, silvery very slippery and evil looking serpent painted on the ceiling. He groaned again as he struggled helplessly against the same old regrets that were starting to invade his mind. If father could see me now, about to betray him for losing the family trust. Helping the Muggleborns, what a failure. He shook himself violently and sat up, staring around. Claw had returned from delivering his mail and was perched at the end of the bed, hooting slowly. Draco heaved himself up on to his bed next to the bird; he stared determinedly at the floor, and instantly wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He knew his sleeve would soon be soaked. He looked up at Claw who hooted affectionately. Draco stroked the bird gently with his hand; Claw was his only remaining friend. Draco blindly ran his hands over a note, which appeared to have been tied rather hastily around Claw's middle. Draco frowned as he looked at the note. Father had sent him a letter back, but had failed to recognize the fact that Claw felt pain too and had subjected him to a long flight with a note tied tightly around his middle. It was so damn typical of Father to do such a thing; he moved hurriedly to untie it.

Claw soared up and perched himself on the windowsill, watching gratefully. Draco got up and got changed, brushing his hair impatiently with a black and green comb before sitting down. He sighed heavily and looked down to the note held in his now trembling hand. He snorted and a smile ruptured on his face. Draco Malfoy was not scared of a stupid letter from his Father, he thought, and in one swift move, he opened the envelope, took out the parchment inside and unfolded it. His face fell as he read through it,

Draco,

I need not tell you why I'm writing this letter. This family's loyalty lies with you now. The pain you felt when you decided to pass up the job that many would die for, is only a taster of what you will feel if you let anything slip out about it now. He is at work within the castle, doing the Dark Lord's work. Do not interfere or there will be much to pay.

Your Father

Draco shuddered fearfully and looked at his watch, 9:30. He looked down at the note clutched in his hands.

"Much to pay," he muttered. "The usual crap about beating me again," he snorted.

Standing up, he walked to the fireplace where a fire roared noisily, he scrunched up the note and threw it into the fire.

"When are you going to realise I'm not going to follow in your footsteps, Father?" he told the shriveling note, his face blank. He turned on his heel and made his way to Snape's office.

~*~

"So what do you think Draco wanted to tell Snape?" Hermione said keenly, leaning over the table. Harry yawned widely before answering.

"Dunno, must be something important though, he didn't seem to want to say anything while we were there, it was obvious," said Harry, leaning in as well.

"Maybe it's something about You-Know-Who?" Ron suggested offhandedly, leaning in to join them.

"Hmm... is it just me or doesn't he truly get the sick pleasure from bullying people anymore?" Hermione asked, glowering.

"Nonsense, I'm sure he's just not showing the 'sick pleasure' he gets from it," replied Ron.

Hermione frowned and Ron turned to Harry for help. "You agree with me, don't you Harry?" Harry shook his head meekly.

"Yeah, okay. When pigs fly," said Ron. "Point out to me the Malfoy who doesn't enjoy bullying; the Malfoy who only does it out of habit," he quipped, raising his eyebrows.

"He hasn't laughed at me once, and yes, it does seem like he's only doing it out of bad habit," Hermione told him honestly.

"When pigs fly Hermione, when pigs fly," Ron said in a singsong voice, but Harry could tell Ron's resolve was weakening.

"Maybe he's in trouble?" Hermione put forward.

"Okay, maybe. It's all maybes," Ron muttered skeptically; Harry however knew she was right.

"In trouble with who?" Harry asked, as Ron stared at him wildly.

"I don't know, but he's definitely scared, he's as white as a ghost," she said, her last statement being highlighted as Nearly Headless nick, Gryffindor house ghost floated by.

Ron came up close and whispered in Harry's ear. "Not likely to be girlfriend trouble eh?" He sniggered and Harry forced a laugh thinking vaguely of Cho, Hermione merely glared at them.

~*~

"Come in," called Snape from within his office. Draco entered full of fresh determination, aware he was about to become one of them. "Right, you wanted to tell me something Malfoy," Snape said curtly, looking up from some papers he had been reading.

"Yeah, it's about you know who," he said confidently.

Snape stared at him, baffled. He would have expected the son of death eater to call You-Know-Who the Dark Lord, just like all of the death eaters. He gulped and motioned for Draco to sit down; the boy did so, looking at Snape fixedly all the while.

"Continue," Snape said loudly, breaking the odd silence that had fallen over them.

"Well it's like this..." Draco started.

~*~

"Harry! Are you all right, you're very quiet?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied, waving his hand dismissively. He pulled a pile of his textbooks towards him and grabbed Standard Book of Spells Grade 6 off the top.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked with concern.

Harry's eyes flickered towards the notice board, before he opened the book and began flicking through it as though looking for a page he couldn't find. Ron looked over to the notice board where several giggling girls were gathered round a new notice. He got up from the table and went to see what was written on it.

"Excuse me, coming through," he warned pushing himself through the crowd; he finally found himself in front of the notice.

Christmas Ball

From this year forth, Headmaster Dumbledore has decided to have an annual ball, to be held on Christmas Day. This year, the dress will be formal attire. Everyone who attends must be in formal attire. There will be a dinner preceding the dance, and entertainment will be provided by a live band.

Date-25th December

Time- 6pm till late

Ron sighed as he thought of how Harry had split up with Cho, and now there was this Christmas Ball and they would both go with different people. Oh, and there was also Hagrid's Wedding Reception to find a date for; that would be fun. He ducked out of the crowd, went over to Harry and Hermione, and quietly gave a brief summary of the notice to Hermione. They both exchanged worried looks, and then they looked at Harry who was still flicking through the book, his eyes resolutely glued to it. He suddenly slammed the book down.

"Harry?" Ron began again. "I know what you're going through, it's not the end of the world, don't wor-" he stopped abruptly as Harry threw the book onto the table. Ron exchanged an alarmed look with Hermione who opened her mouth to speak. Harry looked up at Ron suddenly with a face full of angry hatred.

"It's all right for you!" he shouted fiercely. "You've never had a girlfriend or even liked a girl like that, so how the hell do you know about it all?"

He cast Ron a look of sheer contempt, his eyes fierce and hurtful. Harry got up, kicked his chair aside and stormed away muttering further insults under his breath. Ron stared after him, completely scandalised; he then looked back to Hermione who had her mouth slightly open, looking just as scandalised.

Unable to bear it he shouted after him, "Well how the hell would you know if I fancied anyone, you're always going on about your own wretched girlfriend," he said, now fuming. He kicked the table hard and stamped off towards the boys dormitory, talking wildly and insulting Harry to himself, not bothering to lower his voice in case anyone heard. Hermione stood there watching him go in dismay, wondering absent-mindedly whether Harry had broken the world record for messing things up in the shortest time.

~*~

Ron was seething with anger. What right had Harry to say that? If he knew, Harry wouldn't have said that. Ron had had a girlfriend, just because he hadn't let the boy-who-thought-he-was-king know that didn't make it untrue. So what if his girlfriend had been Cho? Harry didn't own her. And anyway it happened way back in Primary school. They'd liked each other and started going out in her last year. It'd been a private relationship, no one else had known about it. Even though there wasn't a chance of trouble if it was in the open, they'd decided to keep it secret. It felt more exciting that way. They'd drifted apart when Cho left for Hogwarts and then they'd eventually broken up. Even though Ron still liked her when he'd followed her to Hogwarts, it was obvious Cho and Harry liked each other from the day they'd clapped eyes on each other and from then on it was down hill for Ron and Cho's 'thing.' How was Harry Potter, the renowned boy-who-lived, expected to understand the woes and worries of his sixteen year old best friend who lived in a large family, with five older successful brothers whose standards he was expected to live up to? Sure, it was hard to be best friends with the boy-who-lived-and-became-famous-because-of-it, but when he didn't even try to understand, well that was just arrogant. He flung him self on his bed and drew the curtains close around him. He had to think.

~*~

Hermione's feelings towards Harry at the present time were torn between bafflement, anger, and sheer frustration. She couldn't help feeling angry, I mean who wouldn't be angry with one of their best friends when they'd exploded at another best friend out of their own irritation? It was just so stupid of Harry to be so childish. Yet, she still felt strongly attracted to him. It wasn't as crazy as it used to be, it'd become more subdued, but it was still there as strong as ever and invading her every thought. She wrenched open the heavy library door and scanned the users; she spotted a familiar head bent down over an unmistakable Quidditch book in the corner. She made her way over to Harry, trying hard to be extremely cautious and sitting down opposite him.

"Harry?" she began, lowering her head to look at his face. He slammed down his book and looked back at Hermione who had jumped at this movement.

"I don't know what came over me," he said, frowning hard and sighing.

"What do you mean, you don't know what came over you? Are you or are you not, in control of your own mouth?" she asked angrily, sitting down opposite him. "You had no right whatsoever to say that about him Harry," she added fiercely.

"I'm not in control of my mouth. Well...not in control of my temper really. Dumbledore thinks somebody's tampering with my life," Harry blurted out.

Hermione looked stunned. "Honestly Harry if that's your excuse." Her eyebrows flew up.

"I-" he began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"I understand you're sorry Harry." She leaned up real close so that the tips of their noses were almost touching. Harry could smell the scent of her perfume and on instinct leant far back on his chair nearly toppling over, but grabbing the desk behind for stability. "But you really shouldn't make up things like that just to suit yourself. This isn't a game you're playing here," she said quietly.

Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from retorting; Hermione had already made up her mind not to believe him. She turned and began to walk away, large determined steps, as though she walked with the purpose to get away from him as soon as possible. Then suddenly, she stopped and came towards him again.

"I'm not dumb, you know, I know when someone's lying Harry. Quite frankly it's written all over your face." She left again, her bushy hair bouncing with her quick pace. Harry, staggered by her mistrust started after her, and in the silence that followed her leaving one question came to mind: what should I do now?

~*~

Draco sat cross-legged on his bed twiddling his thumbs, again staring absent-mindedly at his current surroundings. He had become quite accustomed to this action as it was just about the only thing you could do when you were worried, and Draco had been worrying a lot lately, not without cause though. There was plenty to be worried about of course. Lord Voldemort, Father, Mother, Father, Family Trust, Father, Death Eaters, Father and the Heir were only a few of his worries. Now that he'd told them, via Snape, it should be that young Draco would feel a huge weight being lifted up off his shoulders. As always, this was not the case however, if anything he felt even worse. He sighed heavily, stretched out on his bed, and wondered what it was like to have an easy life. When lives were being handing out, he reckoned that he had gotten a raw deal. Draco snorted; where did that cheesy thought come from? He laughed and sat up, staring round the dormitory curiously as if he'd never seen it before. He was so bored. When Crabbe and Goyle were his friends they could always find something fun to do and took great pleasure plotting and scheming against the dream team. However, even making Potter's, Weasley's, and Granger's lives a living misery was just done for something to do. No one could help him now. When it was out in the open, he would be dead meat. Draco imagined his funeral. Father probably wouldn't attend, and neither would anyone else. Draco had made a lot of enemies in a bid to please his father, a lot of enemies. And so now he was a loner, traitor, wrongdoer, and soon to be victim. Draco had had a lot of disappointments in his life, sure he lived in Malfoy Mansion, was an only child, and could almost get everything he could ever want, but money couldn't ever possibly buy happiness, and happiness was something Draco had never really experienced.